


No Running From This

by mrsmischief



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmischief/pseuds/mrsmischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Loki gets too drunk? (trigger warning: non-con/rape)</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Running From This

The party had been great fun. It had been going on until the early hours of morning; this was the way even the smallest and most modest feast usually turned out in Asgard. Most of the people had left for bed earlier, but some of the younger ones had stayed, including me, and Loki, my husband.

He was always great fun at parties - until he got drunk enough, that was. Alcohol made him more serious, sullen and brooding, letting the sadness inside him take over. That was often replaced with aggression, some sort of hidden rage that now made it to the surface. He rarely picked up a fight, usually he radiated that anger so much no one wanted to approach him, let alone try to infuriate him.

It was only when we left the party to finally go to bed when he let his guard drop completely. He became lovelorn and needy, demanding my attention in all the ways he could. Mostly it meant embracing and kissing each other until we fell asleep, but this one time… things got out of hand.

“Iina, I need you…” he said quietly as soon as he closed our bedroom door behind us. I turned to look at him, and smiled.   
“Need me?”  
“Yes…” he whispered, coming closer and wrapping his arms around me. Our lips found each other, kissing gently. I sighed against him, trying not to yawn.   
“Loki… I’m really tired,” I muttered.   
“Just a bit of fun first, darling?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. I closed my eyes, wondering how I should approach the situation. He took direct denial badly, he didn’t want to get rejected. Before I could say anything his hands brushed up and down my arms, his body inching even closer.   
“I want you…”

Not knowing what to do, I opened my eyes and shook my head. His face dropped, but he let go of me and stepped back, letting me undress and put my nightdress on. I slipped under the covers, smiling contently as I felt the soft pillow under my head. I didn’t know where Loki was, since he had blown out the candles after I got to bed, but I assumed he was getting ready for bed as well. I was just about to drop off when I felt him slide in next to me, his arms wrapping around my waist as his mouth came onto my neck, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. I opened my eyes reluctantly, but ignored him otherwise, hoping he could wait until the morning - I was absolutely exhausted, and not a fan of drunk sex anyway.

Only this time he didn’t give up. He kept moaning my name into my ear, his hands caressing my body. I sighed and turned to lie on my side, my back to him. That should have signalled him that I wanted him to back off, but he took it more as a challenge, or even an insult. He grabbed me and turned me onto my back, crawling on top of me.   
“Are you refusing me?” he asked, smirking. I nodded, rolling my eyes at his stubbornness. Something in him changed then, the darker side of him gained more power over him. He grabbed my chin, making me look at him.  
“Don’t… Ever… Do… That,” he growled.   
“Do what?” I asked defiantly, really getting tired of all this.   
“Deny me, make fun of me, mock me!” His hands moved down my body, gripping the hem of my nightdress and pulling it up while his mouth travelled on my skin, kissing the skin just above my breasts.   
“You are mine… And I will take you when I please.”

His words alarmed me. He could be dominant if he wished, yes, but he had never been like this. Once the nightdress was out of his way he pulled my underwear off and slipped one of his hands between my legs. Despite of his talented touch I couldn’t feel the slightest bit of arousal anymore; I was too frightened and annoyed to feel anything like that at all. I heard him pull his trousers out of the way, and as he pushed my legs wider apart I pulled back, trying to get away from him.

“Loki, no…” I begged. My heart was beating faster and faster, the adrenalin coursing in my veins. He ignored my pleas and gripped my wrists, pinning them next to me on the bed as he entered me quickly, and forcefully. I whined quietly, but he didn’t hear it over his own heavy breathing.

“That’s it, darling…” he panted. “I know you like it rough…” He moaned then, beginning to move with a faster rhythm. I felt tears spring into my eyes, and turned my head to the side. Right now I didn’t even want to look at him, it was all too much. I wished it would just be over soon… As he thrusted deeper I couldn’t help letting out a cry of pain, and he suddenly stopped. He looked at me, and let go of my left hand, turning my head with his now freed hand.

“Iina? Honey? What is it?” he asked, looking at me with a more sober look on his face. I felt the hot tears stream down my cheeks as I whispered, “You’re hurting me, Loki…” For a moment he looked confused. He then looked up and down at us, at our connected bodies and his left hand still holding down my right. His gaze finally returned to my face, and I saw that the realisation had dawned on him. He let go of me and pulled out of me, looking horrified.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry…” he mumbled. I nodded, but couldn’t stop crying. He reached out for me, but I pulled back instinctively, fearing he’d start it all over again, that this was just a momentary act. As he saw the fear in my eyes his own welled up with tears as well. He shook his head, and stood up. He fumbled around in the dim room, grabbing the first clothes he could find, and pulled them on. I watched him warily. He didn’t approach me again, instead he stood there, just looking at me for a moment, trying to apologise without words. I knew he regretted it, but couldn’t get over the shock and just kept crying.

“I’m so so sorry,” he whispered once more. He then took hesitant steps towards the door, but turned to look at me before opening it.   
“I’ll… I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight,” he said quietly, pain audible in his voice. “Would you like me to ask someone to come here with you? One of your friends?” I nodded, gathering the duvet around me as I tried to compose myself. The tears had stopped streaming, but I was still sobbing, and my whole body was shaking.   
“I’ll… Come to see you in the morning… If you still want to see me,” he said and opened the door. A second later he was gone, the door was shut again, and I was alone in the darkness.


End file.
